The Trials and Tribulations of Travelers

[CoSurvivor]

Rand took three solid deep breaths, blew the last one out and bolted for it, when his front foot just touched the edge of the platform he jumped, aiming for the sweet spot he'd been hoping for.

Clearing the water he hit the ground, rolled to reduce his momentum and got up on his feet, grabbing his pack he got it out of the way.

Looking to where Wren was, he motioned with his arms, that she should make a go at it. Watching her form, he noticed the distance she'd jumped and smiled. Delighted that she'd made it. With a hopeful smile, Rand quickly walked up, grabbed her pack and cloak, handing them to her, patting her shoulder lightly.

"I knew you could do it!" Rand was indeed proud of her, proud that she'd shown an ability to overcome her fears. If she indeed was afraid of water, or couldn't swim, it wasn't a small thing that she'd made the jump. He was a bit surprised that she'd jumped as far as she had, but who was he to judge. In battle under stress-filled conditions of urgency he'd seen men lift whole carts of goods off family and fellow soldiers, it wasn't without explanation. For the moment he'd put that away in his memory, in case she made any other feats of strength or power that didn't seem normal.

Handing Wren her pack, Rand didn't wait for her to put it on, he started for the tree line which was about 30 feet away. He'd planned on taking the road if they'd made it out without problems, now however he didn't want any guards from the bridge able to track them. No.. into the woods they'd go.

"Come on Wren...time to move, we've got about a four-hour hike before we can stop for any rest. I want to make it to Edgerton tomorrow and we'll need some sleep."

Knowing full well Wren could keep up with him, Rand set a good pace, one where he'd work up an appetite when the stopped.

They were making good time. he just hoped they wouldn't run into anyone along the way.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"I knew you could do it!"


Wren emphatically nods, another weak huff of a laugh and a relieved bit of a smile. Encouragement of any kind wasn’t something she was entirely used-and she both appreciates, and believes him when he gives it.

She climbed to her feet (knees only a little bit shaky)and gratefully accepted her cloak wrapped pack. “Thanks. Cold.” Whether that was the mist or just the chill of fear wearing off, she couldn’t quite decide. She drops her pack out of the cloak, dons one, then the other-and hurries after him, set to get as far from the river as possible, in case drownies and other water beasts might just be real.

“To Edgerton it is.” She agrees, shaking off the last bit of childish cowardice-and determinedly following after him. If they had a ways to go yet, she might want to slow it down just a tad.

~*~

Rand had built a fire. Wren had been suspicious of it, downright begrudging-but eventually she couldn’t deny the simple fact that it was cold, she was cold-and maybe, just a little bit, tired of being so cold. It’d been over a week since she’d sat fireside and warmed her hands. It was something she’d never thought to miss, in all honesty.

She’d unfurled her bedroll and sat cross legged in the middle of it, munching on a simple potato she’d carefully cooked in the hot embers on the edge of the flames. It was all Wren was apparently set to eat tonight, and she did so kind of...barbarically, somewhat-holding the cooled potato in one hand and eating it like one might an apple. The young woman looks one part silly, one part attractive in the firelight-her face in profile, those delicate features and olive green eyes-there's something alluring about such a face.

At the same time, her tattered cloak drawn closed around her like that, only one hand free of it-the rest of her looked a bit like a lady's make up pouf.

“You stay in Barrows, before?” Wren asks, somewhat out of nowhere-and blunt, as always.

 

[CoSurvivor]

Rand had taken his time to make a quality fire. They were about 100 yards from the established road that they'd be returning to in the morning, and he figured the proximity to it He'd cleared the brush from a good-sized area, swept out any tinder that could light up, and he gathered what wood he could find, taking a few branches off a dead tree and hacking a few limbs off it. When he was done, it was actually quite proud of the small yet effective fire. Roling out his bedroll, finding his blanket which was becoming threadbare after so many years of use Rand took time to make himself as comfortable as he could.

In the firelight, he watched Wren, as she prepped her bed. She had a beautiful face, that was more than apparent and he grew to be more than a little curious about what her body was like under all of her ill-fitting clothes. Was she in shape? Was she petite? There was something about her brashness which made him interested in knowing more about her, well as much as she'd tell him anyway. There would be a number of things that he could assume, but it would be better if she told him.

Rand pulled over his pack and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth. Unwrapping it he was greeted by the sweet aroma of the bread Vonnie had made for him. Taking another hunk of the sweet bread, he washed it down with some water from a water skin he owned. When he heard Wren's question, he wasn't surprised at all by it. Rand had positioned his bedroll close to hers so he wasn't forced to yell or raise his voice. So, when he offered her a bite as she ate some of her own food, he easily leaned over offered and started talking.

"I lived there for about a month, I was there on my way south, well farther south than where we'd met. They are truly good people, some are a bit more clueless than others but they mean well. The healthy amount of fear they put in their kids keeps them safe, for the most part. But after a while, the smell in there begins to be too much. "

Sipping from his waterskin, Rand asked in kind, "You'd said you traveled what, 5 days at night? That would be quite the trek..."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“No, you eat it.” Wren demurs about the bread, but not in a petulant way-she just didn’t want to take any more of the sweetened stuff, both because she didn’t want to spoil regular bread-which had always done her just fine-and also because, well-he ought to keep the things he liked. Enjoy them himself.

She’s still worrying about him being a little too easily duped, and so it was somewhat her way of looking out for him, leaving his bread to him. “Thanks, though.” An appreciative nod-and another bite of her potato, plenty content just to have something to eat.

"I lived there for about a month, I was there on my way south, well farther south than where we'd met. They are truly good people, some are a bit more clueless than others but they mean well. The healthy amount of fear they put in their kids keeps them safe, for the most part. But after a while, the smell in there begins to be too much.”

Wren mulls that over. She’s not sure there is a ‘healthy’ amount of fear, exactly...just something to control people with. Then again, what were her rules about? Fear too, in a way.

Maybe there’s a balance. After all, people were clearly allowed to leave Barrows, if they wanted. Entirely different castes in these towns and villages. Freedom.

And farther south? Wren tries to piece together which direction she had come from. South of that river, apparently, but...eastward, maybe? She’s not sure. He had only stayed a month, but had also been on his way somewhere…? That doesn’t make sense-why stay so long? Or, if whatever had been in the South was so very unimportant-why leave?

Could the smell really get that poor?

She considers this as she finishes her potato, drawing her knees up beneath her cloak and resting her arms on top of them, warm, full, and on her way to where she’s going, possessing direction. Her eyes follow the smoke skyward and she has a bit of reservation about that-but eight days-that was plenty. Everyone probably thought she was dead.

"You'd said you traveled what, 5 days at night? That would be quite the trek..."

Wren’s eyes cut over, study him a moment. She had lied before, only because she still wasn’t sure she’d be hiring him, and hadn’t wanted to make it easy to guess where she’d come from, should he not be hired, and talked about her to someone else.

She decides to trust him with at least that much, now.

“It was actually eight.” She’s not boasting, exactly-but if he thought five nights was impressive, then three more on top of that-well, she IS a little proud of it. A small measure of pride flickered through the young woman’s green eyes, and she looked at the fire again, shoulders a little straighter, chin up.

Not many of her types had ever traveled quite so far. Her...former type, that was.

Yes. Former.

But eight nights (nine now) was hardly a drop in the bucket compared to what Rand must have traveled.

“Maybe not a lot, but for me-quite a lot.” She nods. “First night, I wasn’t sure the mist wouldn’t choke me.” Her gaze draws back to him, direct but also just slightly, sliiiightly wondering. “That’s what I had always been told. That it strangles. Or, you disappear, and a wraith takes your shape, replaces you.”

The corner of her mouth quirks, an almost, but not quite smile. Amused.

“Just stories.”

 

[CoSurvivor]

Nodding an acceptance of her decline to share his food, Rand held his hand over his mouth as he chewed on a bite of his bread, If Wren was watching, it appeared that he was just practicing good manners, by covering his mouth while chewing his food, especially the piece that he'd just gobbled into his mouth. However behind his hand hid a smile at her final admission. he'd figured she was lying about how long she'd been out on her own, but to hear she'd been out on her own for 8 days. that put the range of distance that she covered to be wider than he'd originally thought. He'd on purpose over stated how many days she'd been out there, when she'd originally told him 4, He figured she'd correct him soon enough.

He'd also mentioned south, a sort of direction but when Wren hadn't mentioned much more he was pretty sure she had no true sense of direction, probably didn't know how to find her way if she got lost. He'd have to teach her that, but a lot of her answers would help paint a better picture, and the more she talked the more he realized that she was not high born.. not a noble, maybe a farmer's daughter? And when she spoke of the mist wraiths, that gave him a more specific idea of who she was, not everyone believed the idea that if you stayed out beyond the curfew, that you'd be changed by the fog. That your body would be possessed... What the Capital spit out as the word of Lord Varric, could often become twisted.. sometimes by those in power to abuse, or enslave those who didnt follow the letter of the law, or.. their interpretation of it.

He remembered one such occasion, far south, in a village that tore itself apart. two families who'd terrorize each other. He'd gotten involved only to find that both families were at fault. a bruised ego turned into an evening beating, which turned into a kidnapping, which turned into homes being burned out. families destroyed, lives lost... He swore to himself he'd never go back there, and he hasn't despite his own curiosity if parties involved ever mended.. he doubted it, but it was something he wondered about.

Without answering her question about the mist wraiths Rand asked a more practical question,

"So, if you traveled mostly at night, how did you navigate? Did you just stick to established roads and trust that you were headed in the right direction? I mean you could've been out there for 8 days running in circles..."

Rand was concerned, really he was, nobody should be out there not too far from any established roads, There were things out there in the mists... somethings more terrifying than the ghost stories of Mist Wraiths. True life creatures which had been mutated.. corrupted by what Rand hadn't known. A shiver went down his spine at the memory.

"I ask, because if you were navigating simply by staying on the roads you could get easily lost if you got turned around. I'd be more than happy to teach you how to navigate at night, that is, if you want to know...."

Rand looked up at the stars and within a few minutes he could tell pretty well where he was. He was pretty sure he'd stared at those lights in the sky, wondering who else was doing the same thing, in placed he'd lived before. However, he did want to earnestly answer her question, which sounded more like a statement.

"it's not the child hood stories that you should be concerned about, not the supposed mist wraiths that possess you, or the demon spirits that have wrecked the land yet exist at night to lay claim on anyone who's foolish to travel anywhere unprotected, anywhere that civilization hasn't put it's foot on. No, what you should be worried about, are the things that lay outside the camp fire, We're a short distance from the road, and we're still in safe territory, but there are things that have been... twisted.. and don't seem natural. Where we can, we'll say clear of those areas. Others I'll do the best I can to keep us free of the danger, but we will need to be on our guard."

Drinking again from his water skin, Rand finished, "All those ghost stories you heard growing up, they all have a measure of truth to them.... "

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Wren tilted her head at the question, a slight frown. She didn’t want to reveal, entirely, just how little she knew of traveling-and the less the spoke, the less stupid she would seem.

At the same time, she can’t quite see what there’d be to make fun of. She hadn’t been traveling in circles. Of this she was reasonably certain.

“I stayed close to the road where I could, once I found one.” She hadn’t known which way she was going. She had crafted up the idea of hiring a guide after stealing coin pouches from that second group of slumbering bandits-and had only wanted for a town to find one in. She’d eaten wild carrots and mushrooms she’d known to be safe-and drank sparingly from the canteen she’d stolen along with everything else she currently carried, save what she’d bought from McCallister. She had been hungry, and cold, and alone-but hunger was nothing new, cold was a small price to pay for secrecy, and loneliness-well. There was some company that made loneliness infinitely preferable.

Rand was alright, though.

“I made sure to always sleep with my head towards the way I was going. There were only three forks, and I did not take any crossroads. Was careful. Waited for a larger village, and I found one.” She nodded. He says something about teaching her how to navigate on her own, and Wren glances at him again, wondering what the catch to that might be.

He doesn’t tell her right away, and so she doesn’t comment, either-eyes returning to the crackling flames. It was worth knowing a price before you paid it, after all.

She listens to the baritone of his voice as he goes on, unperturbed until-

”...things that have been... twisted…”

He has Wren’s attention again, the woman’s eyes slightly widened despite herself, lips pressing together in a slight frown, brow furrowing. “What do you mean, ‘twisted’?”

Oddly, Wren doesn’t look afraid, or even all that unsettled-more morbidly curious. For so small a woman, that might seem odd-but then again, she was a determined one, serious, brash. She had that dagger on her belt.

“Monsters?” She ventures, head cocked before a flicker of a scowl moves across her delicate features. “Worse than people?” She shakes her head, that spark of determined will apparent.

“I would have found them preferable perhaps, had I run into them.” She responds with a shrug, almost as if she didn’t quite believe him…or maybe just didn’t sense the concern.

Her eyes cut back, a beat of silence before- “Have you seen them, though? Monsters?” Wren hadn’t seen much of the world, or heard much in the way of stories other than the superstitions told and retold to make one fear the night. She briefly loses her edge, and it’s almost...innocent, that regard and attention. Looking to learn. Curious. And wanting to know more.

 

[CoSurvivor]

He admired her resourcefulness, regarding trying to keep her head always pointed in the direction that she was going, and knew his own sense of direction was pretty good, but at heart he knew she'd gotten lucky.. He didn't tell her that though, it was enough that she'd left whatever life she was stuck in 8 days ago, and was now out on the road with him. There were more questions along with that, though, Did she have family, brothers, sisters, why was she keeping away from the road and why traveling at night? His heart and his head said the same thing. She was running from someone.

Why he hadn't come to that conclusion earlier, that was his fault, Whoever they are they could come looking for her and he could get caught in the middle. Did it really matter? He'd been caught in skirmishes before, and while his head still hurt from the fight he'd gotten into the night before he too the opportunity to take the bandage off, look at it and feel the spot. Tender... but the stitches were holding. He'd been hired to guide her to the Capital, and he'd do that. If that meant helping protect her along the way, then that's what it meant. So much started to fill in for him, the way she was acting, the stand offish nature of not trusting him, of being blunt with some of her questions. It also started to make sense why she was asking so many questions about what creatures lurk in the Mist.


"Monsters? No, I wouldn't describe them as monsters exactly, just that some creatures prefer to be out at night, there are some that appear to be more... aggressive, angrier than others, that's probably a better word. I remember once..."

His memory drifted off as Rand remembered not long ago he was actually stuck out after dark, in one of the more dangerous areas.. And while he made it out unscathed, there were others that were not quite so lucky. It seemed his train of thought was lost. He'd seen... so much death, so much loss, that it prevented him from trying to make any true friends anymore. It was easier to deflect and talk about events and other people rather than himself.

After a pause, which grew more uncomfortable as his eyes went to the fire while he thought about what to say to Wren next. When he did speak, he tried to make eye contact with her.

"Wren, I can tell you all this, but do you really wanna know? Some of it is not... well not for the squeamish. It's not that I don't think you can handle knowing about the details, just some may not want to know. For now, let's just say, there are things out here in the night time, which reside off into the wild, that don't take too kindly to visitors. Most won't prey upon you, but if you are foolish enough to enter within their area of interest, you've chosen your path poorly."

Rand shook off the trailing memory, he'd already thought about it too much as it was.. So he broke into his pack and snagged one of the apples he'd slipped into a side pocket, brushing it against his tunic, he looked up at the stars, laying back on his rolled up cloak he'd made into a pillow.

"When you want to know about navigating by night, I'd be happy to teach you."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Rand trails off and he’s lost to her and the world for a little while, staring into the flames and the past, however long ago and however far away.

Wren gets that. Wren gets that probably better than a lot of people get that. Maybe not for the same things-but still. Things.

“It’s okay.” That blunt tone’s a little softer, and one half of her tattered cloak slides away as she reaches to grasp his shoulder for a moment. When he looks at her, there’s a measure of concern to her eyes and face-and a bit of understanding.

“Don’t have to talk.” She gives a nod and draws away again, back into her puffball of a cloak-cheek resting on her covered arms and knees when he begins to talk again, watching him without expectation.

“We won’t go where we shouldn’t, then.” She says simply, a nod that has her almost nuzzling into her covered arms and knees, a bit of a sleepier look now. “That’s what I hired you for-you know the things I don’t.” Like where the Capital -was-, let alone how to get there-and apparently, what dangers to avoid.

Yes, that had been a good idea. Who knows what might have happened otherwise...probably would have ended up in circles, maybe tracked by these...twisted beasts he’d talked about.

"When you want to know about navigating by night, I'd be happy to teach you."

She’s tired, and her next answer was a near murmur as she shifted to curl up on her own bedroll, back to the flames. “Only if it’s free, Rand.”

 

[CoSurvivor]

“Only if it’s free, Rand.”

"I didn't say anything about..." He was about to finish when he watched Wren start to nod off and crash on her bed roll.

A half-smile of amusement came across his face as he watched the bundle of woman gives in to what her body needed...Rest. She must have been awake for at least 24 maybe 30 hours on her feet, and the last seven were at a high pace. How she's kept up with him he wasn't sure, but it had to be an age thing. Oh Rand wasn't 'old' but he surely had more than a few years on Wren, and as he watched her sleep, Rand felt as if he'd seen enough in his 30 years of life to last 2 lifetimes.

After a few minutes of watching Wren ease into sleep, Rand quietly doused the fire and made sure it was out before he himself prepared for sleep. As was his normal practice, Rand took the long knife he normally carried at his waist slipping it into the sleeve of his tunic. Easing himself into a position where he slept on his back, Rand took a deep breath and settled in for what he hoped would be a restful night...

-----

As Rand slept, for once his dreams were peaceful, they were of Sandra, and little William, he was watching her as they sat in the forest near their home. He could smell and hear the river nearby, knowing that Will had folded a paper boat again and was sailing it down the river, in the dream, the smell of nature filled his nose, filled his senses... until he picked up the scent of something that didn't belong there... Something completely out of the smell of manure hung in the air.. in his mind his wife who'd been dead for 10 years turned to him and said.... "Rand...what is that smell..."

He heard it then, a barely audible crunch as if someone had almost snapped a branch they stepped on. With slight move of his eyes, Rand looked about the campsite, the moon was high, he hadn't been asleep long, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a group of 4 men shadows advancing on them from behind Wren, maybe 100 feet from her. Three were carrying wooden bats while one carried a clear cylinder which reflected in the moonlight and gave him away.

Before they could advance further, Rand yelled, "WREN! GET UP!! Get up and RUN!!!"

Rand rolled from his laying position and threw the dagger had hidden in the sleeve of his tunic. the blade spun through the air, sinking deep into the head of one man sending him crashing to the ground. in his roll, Rand brought up his sword and charging the men, leaping over Wren as he yelled one more time for her to run for it.

In the time it took for one man to fall, Rand had crashed into the three now surprised attackers. The first man he attacked was at least 5 inches taller and at least 100 lbs heavier than Rand, and appeared to be quicker than he seemed.

Rand Brought up his sword to block a massive swing from the attacker's wooden bat only to see the two weapons become locked, The blade of Rand's sword sunk deep into the weapon, In a test of strength between the two men, for a moment, Rand looked to be winning, he'd shoved the bat against the man's face, breaking his nose, blood poured from the wound but his attacker didn't care, he grinned... and with Rand locked in combat, he swung them both around so Rand was pressed against the nearest tree.

The giant man grinned at Rand, and spoke..

"We're here for the girl. We were just going to collect her and be gone, But now I get to kill ya."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

The small woman starts, and badly-less for the warning and more thinking she was in some serious trouble, a man yelling her name like that-she twisted to be on all fours and scrambled away just as quickly, not even fully awake but ready to MOVE all the same. Unfortunately, she scrambled TOWARDS the men at her back-and nothing really makes sense except she’s being told to run-and then Rand jumped over her, charging into a group of unsavory sorts that had apparently been set to get the jump on them.

Her eyes widen in alarm as she shakes off her grogginess, instantly on her feet and ready to bolt. She’s already instinctively melted partially away across the remnants of the campfire and towards the treeline. She spun and took off, fingers slipping into the fine leather case to catch at one of the slim glass vials she’d stolen. It’d help her escape. That was one of her rules, after all-don’t be there, and you can’t be attacked.

She uncorked the vial and downed the contents, grimacing at the taste of the suspension liquid and flakes of metal.

Three strangers versus one Rand, though…

~*~

"We're here for the girl. We were just going to collect her and be gone, But now I get to kill ya.”

His two compatriots had started in the direction they’d seen Wren disappear to, not even checking on their fourth, very much dead, companion. These were hired men, hunters, trackers, killers.

The grin on the giant man’s face said as such as much as his words had. “Bad luck you got caught in, ma-.” His sentence ended in a surprised grunt as a Wren came flying in out of nowhere, her feet together and slamming into the man’s side with more force than so small a thing ought to have been capable of. It takes him sideways and off of her guide, costs the giant his bat as the two take a tumble.

Her knees were tight on either side of the surprised man’s torso as she drew her dagger-but he was no slower than she was, catching that wrist and jerking her sideways and off of him, rolling to pin her to the forest floor. Wren was growling at him, a feminine, furious noise that made her sound downright feral. But for all her animalistic fury and instincts, she’s too small to physically fight him, even while burning Pewter. Fine-her free hand darts into the other, thread bare pouch of loose nails and other scrap pieces of metal on her belt, but he’s on to her before she can withdraw it. He pins that wrist to her hip and her fist clenches around what she’s grabbed, jagged pieces of metal cutting and gouging into her palm. He ripped it up over her head to join the first, and then took that giant hand and wrapped it around her throat-cutting off her feral sounds of exertion and anger in a choked gasp.

In desperation Wren flared Iron, but the only metal was on Rand-these men weren’t wearing any, and she withdraw her hand from the pouch to-no, wait, there! Wren found a source and yanked on it as hard as she could.

The long dagger that’d been driven into the dead man’s skull jerked violently to one side, twisting the man’s head in grotesque manner before ripping free-it flew towards Wren, and therefore the giant of a man currently pinning her down-but did not pierce him. No, Wren burned steel next, the dagger spinning upwards into the sky. She’s starting to tunnel vision on the bleeding, angry man’s face. The blue lines that seemed to travel through him, that she can see leading to the distant dagger far above-they don’t blur, but everything else in the darkness does. He’s crushing her windpipe, she can’t breathe-her lungs burn as she pulls at her wrists, starts to panic.

But the dagger-!

She yanks on the weapon again, brings it crashing down into his lower back point first. His whole body goes stiff and his hands spasm open as he reflexively reels back-allowing Wren to draw in an explosive, gasping breath of air.

She ripped her right hand free of him and out of the pouch that’d been torn off of her belt-and then opens her fist with a particularly vengeful burst of anger, flaring steel to send the sharp bits of metal through him. The force of the push slides her partially out from under him as they stick into his brow bone-and tear through the soft flesh of his eyes.

It kills him instantly, the man collapsing onto the much smaller Wren, a sharp, cold jab of pain at the front of her hip when he does so-and then wet warmth spreading there and over her hip after. Wren instinctively burned more Pewter, and she doesn’t try to imagine what it’d be like without it.

It’s the dagger. It’d gone through him, and now-the giant was violently kicked and flipped off of her, but Wren doesn’t have the breath to scream as the exposed blade was torn back out of her. The fourth man grabbed her by her hair and started to haul her away-her feet kicking up dirt as she tries to find purchase, bloodied fingers trying to pry his larger ones out of the dark, choppy short locks.

“Let-” She’s barely able to exhale she’s so short of breath, the words rasped through her swollen, sore throat. “Go-!”

 

[CoSurvivor]

Rand saw and felt Wren impact the giant of a man, their weapons twisted, in the impact, throwing Rand's sword in a direction he wasn't sure of, the bat, however, was spun and flung far out of reach. That wasn't to prevent the two others from trying to finish the job their friend had started. The only problem for them, neither of them were as tall, or as strong as the overgrown bully who'd just been kicked by a petite ball of Wren.

Rand had no time to question where the strength had come from, it didn't matter, what did was making sure both of them survived this encounter. Their two remaining men charged Rand, and as they committed to bringing their weapons down on him, he rolled down and under their swings trying to put distance between them and get some sort of weapon of his own. Grabbing what was left of one of the logs he'd thrown on the fire, Rand brought it up to try and hit one of the two men as they charged now away from their fallen friends. Rand swung the log and felt it give at the center, the fire had burned through it enough to render it useless. So Rand threw it at one of the men, ash, and embers catching him in the face. In a pitched scream, the man fell to his knees trying to get the ash and embers out of his eyes.

The last man, recognizing that fighting Rand was probably not a good idea, backed away and nearly stumbled over Wren and the giant, Grasping her hair, he dragged her away from the fight. Rand could hear Wren struggle giving out a choaked plea for this man to let go of her.

Rand quickly jumped to his pack, tore open the package he'd strapped to it, grasped the handles of two matched fighting axes and stalked after the retreating man who was dragging Wren. When he reached the blinded man, his hands still trying to clear his eyes, Rand brought up one of the Axes ready to take the man's head.

"No.. please... I was only hired.."

"It's too late for that, you should've picked a better employer."

With a sense of finality to it, Rand sunk the blade of the ax in his left hand deep in the man's head, Splitting it like a melon. Blood poured from the man's head as his eyes rolled back in his head. Rand, pulled the blade free, stalking after the fourth and final man.

He'd gotten a good bit of distance between Rand and himself when he noticed Rand pursuing him after killing his last friend. Calling out he pleaded with Rand, "We JUST came for the GIRL!!"

Rand didn't reply, he only threw the ax in his right hand straight and true, it found its' mark in the man's chest. Upon impact, he let go of Wren, falling straight back falling against a fallen tree. As Rand approached, a look of astonishment came across his face, as if he was surprised that someone could so easily take them apart. He could only observe as Rand checked on Wren found her wound and tore a section of her cloak apart and tried to quench the bleading.

When Rand did finally approach the man, he said, "But we were only here for the girl... not you..." Rand looked at him as if the answer was an obvious one but he never gave it. Instead, Rand placed a boot on the man's chest, wretched the ax free and wiped the man's blood on his own pant leg. Rand then knelt, looked over the man's posessions found his coin purse and pulled it from his belt. In a voice barely above a whisper, Rand finally spoke, "And she said let me go...you didn't listen did you..."

Rand returned to where Wren was, he stopped her from moving and checked her leg and hip... They had to move, but there was no way she was going to walk out of here.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

A wet and sickening thunk over her head-and the man released her, dropping Wren back against the ground-where Rand was still coming. She moves to get away from him too, a flinch of her arm over her face in a defensive gesture-but he doesn’t strike or otherwise hurt her, just tears part of her ragged cloak away and presses it close to the wound in her side-which he wouldn’t get a good look at, because she reflexively curled in around it after brushing his hand aside.

The young woman had clearly expected further harm, to be kicked when down. Her determined but panicked, pained expression shifts to mild confusion as her scratched up, bloodied hand takes over the task he’d attempted. She doesn’t say anything as Rand straightens to stalk past her, eyes back on the man who’d been hauling her away by her hair.

Maybe Rand hadn’t seen? Wren turns to watch him go, barely catching a glimpse of the dumb stricken man around Rand’s approaching form. The hired hunter says something about only being there for her again, and Wren realizes that even if Rand somehow hadn’t seen her use allomancy, the attack would raise questions she’d be unlikely to avoid answering.

Then she needs to get out of here.

Turning to her good side she moved as if to stand-but there he was again, stopping her from doing so with a hand to her shoulder and the other to the scrap of cloth she’s got pressed to her bleeding side, trying to see where she’d been hurt.

“Don’t-” Wren states forcefully-but there’s a tremor to her hands and a sheen of unshed tears in her eyes, a panicked edge to the utterance-for all of her brash bluntness, she’s afraid. Four men dead (one of them she’d killed herself), the knowledge that she’d been pursued for so long a distance despite all her precautions...not to mention her secret being out-it’s all just a little too much, and she honestly doesn’t know what to do.

She really doesn't want to hurt Rand, not after he’d shared with her and gotten her at least this far-but she’s not sure she can move fast enough to get away from him without doing so. She’s not sure she can get away at all-but this had to have changed things. He might be angry, or potentially treacherous. That was the law, wasn’t it? People like her who weren’t lucky enough to be noble-they weren’t to be suffered. He’d maybe turn her in to the priests and then-well, she doesn’t entirely know what happens after that, but just the thought of those dark purple robes makes her sweat.

Dizzy, she’d relent just enough to let him pull her hand and the scrap of cloth away, the bottom of her tunic-and Rand would be able to see Wren had been stabbed in her lower right side just above her pelvis, torn breeches soaked in blood around the injury. She didn’t have much on her to take such a blow and it’d sliced into her intestines, but luckily not terribly deep-the blade hadn’t quite been long enough to deeply stick her when already through the giant.

Rand might note Wren’s hot to the touch, almost feverish feeling-a side effect of her burning pewter. The leather case on her rough hewn rope belt was open, three more thin vials of glass reflecting moonlight within, and a slot for the one she'd consumed before coming to his rescue. If he cared to cast a glance back in the direction she'd come flying from to kick the brute-he'd see a single nail stuck into a sturdy tree, her apparent 'push' point to send her into him. That same brute's face was currently sporting several new metal piercings across the forehead and tears in his face and bloody eyes where they'd gone through, Rand's own dagger in his back despite it having previously been in another man's skull.

That made for three metal burning powers. Mistings were rare enough, but for someone to be capable of more than one, which meant they were capable of all of them-

Mistborn. Wren was a mistborn.

 

[CoSurvivor]

Rand observed the carnage, he'd outright killed one at the beginning, his dagger was supposed to be in the man's head, instead it was in the giant's back, mostly. The other two, well, it had only been a matter of time till he'd used Mason's axes, the gifts.. were death dealers, the matched pair were perfectly balanced, beautifully crafted years ago, during a different time in both men's lives. They'd seen action then, and in Rand's possession, they were sure to see action, and blood now.

Looking about the bodies, he found his sword, plucked it from the ground and pried the wooden bat from the blade. He'd have to sharpen the edge.. or find a blacksmith, till then it was an overgrown weight upon his back. Looking at his dagger sticking out of the giant, Rand scrunched his face and thought for a moment, looked at the man's face, a pulp of flesh,brains and carnage. He'd suspected something about Wren was not normal, he'd kept those thoughts to himself... Looking around, he spotted the nail in the tree, nodded to it, and looked at Wren, a shivering mess... His charge was panicking, she was in shock too... Pulling his dagger from the man's back, he wiped it clean and placed it in it's scabbard at his waist and slowly... in measured steps made his way to Wren. All his actions, the movements of his hands as he put the axes away and stabbed the point of his sword into the ground were meant to present the appearance that he wasn't a threat to her. If what Rand suspected was true, they were both in danger... Wren was marked... and if he didn't help her... they'd both be dead. As if his decision to help her hadn't been made up already, he was that much more sure the fates had destined for her to find him, and only him.

"Wren....it's ok... you'll be ok...I need to look at the wound ok?"

He slowly moved her shaking hands, his calm voice talking to her the same way he'd have talked to one of his men years ago, although this time the wound was sure to not be fatal. She'd need time, need resources. He calmly looked into her eyes. His own expressing his desire to help her, not an ounce of danger or malice existed there, Every ounce of him tried to convey one thought. "help her." In as soothing a voice as he could find, he spoke while reaching for her small leather case. He closed it and made sure she had it in her hands.

"I have to clean this up quickly and cover the bodies. what do you need? what can I get you..You'll have to stay still while I gather our things, and get us out of here..."

Rand looked into Wren's eyes, he'd seen her fear... and knew full well what would happen if he didn't get her to trust him right now.

"Trust me...please..."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Rand looked at the stab wound and then back up at her, calm, assured, and oddly soothing-like he was talking to a spooked horse. It must not have been too bad a wound, he didn’t look panicked, or grim.

But he had to have seen what she’d just done. He absolutely had, she’d seen him look the man over. But it’s not anger in his eyes, or shock, or fear-it’s kindness. Compassion. He wants to help her.

When he closes up and presses the stolen, fine leather case of vials into her hands, it only seals it. Her vision blurs and the tears break, no accompanying sobs or crying-just two matching, single streaks of pained relief as she nods her understanding, still a little wide eyed, dazed-but now focused on his face.

“B-burning Pewter.” She almost whispers, admitting the fact outloud causing her skin to pale a little further. “Hurt worse, before-think it’ll be okay.” He can do whatever it is he thinks they need to-she won’t fight him, or try to flee on her own.

She’s not sure she’s capable of either, right now.

“M-must have been...following me.” Green eyes dart to what she can see of the various fallen enemies. She didn’t recognize any of them, but that didn’t really mean anything. She knows their type. It was a bad idea, running from one’s Lord-and men like these were why.

Still, to have followed after her for nine days...that was more than pride. And wanting her alive, rather than a head for an example-Wren doesn’t like that. She doesn’t like that at all.

 

[CoSurvivor]

Rand checked the corpses, as he walked through the area, he was almost certain the smell of blood in the air would attract wildlife, and maybe not the kind that would be all too kind to living survivors. Gathering up Wren's stuff as best he could, and kind to her possessions and his own he made haste, brought everything to where she was, and looked her in the eyes.

"Surely they were following you or laying in wait for you. Either way, they won't be following us now. Check everything, make sure I didn't forget to pick anything up."
Quickly he checked for money or personal possessions, he found none, these guys were warned, and the coin purse he'd taken off one man was in fact... not filled with money at all, but marbles. It all made sense. If they were sent to retrieve her, whoever had sent them, or hired them knew her abilities, and wanted her back. He had to think this through, if they were going to be looking for her, it would lead to Mason's place, and surely the old man wouldn't give them anything to go by but there may be others who might. It was more important now to get distance between them than ever. and, throw them off the path.
Walking back to Wren he knelt, looked at her and said,

"Wolves and the wild will claim the bodies, but there's enough evidence here to points at two other parties being present.. We need to get moving, and we need to take a detour. If whoever sent them might send more, or keep looking for you, we need to head in a different direction. I know which way to go, but you'll have to trust me. You hired me as a guide.. It's time for me to earn it."
Looking around one last time, Rand looked for anything out of the ordinary just to make sure he didn't forget anything. he was looking for anything that didn't belong or was unnatural to nature. Then he found it. An Iron nail in the trunk of a tree. He tried at first to pry it out with his fingers, wiggling it back and forth. After a minute he was able to pull it out and palmed it, slipping it into a pouch on his belt.

Walking back to Wren, he helped her up as they stumbled back out of the forest to the main road. He looked in both directions, and listened nodding up the road they were headed. "This way.."

Walking slower than he would have liked, Rand found what he was looking for, or more what he'd hoped to find.

Horses... five of them. The hired killers had stashed the horses here, and traveled in by foot Looking straight into the woods from where the horses were, he could spot what looked like the downed tree not far from their campsite. At least he knew they'd found them the more obvious way. He'd basically made the fire big enough that they'd had no trouble finding them.* Rand helped Wren sit down on the ground a few feet from the horses, and did a quick check of the packs on them, his search turned up a few things, namely a medium-sized coin purse that had been tucked into the bedroll of one of the horses. Calmly, Rand walked back to Wren and asked for her pack while taking his off, "No need to carry them while the horses can do the work for us."
Rand took a few minutes but he was able to strap the packs over the backside of the to the strongest of the horses (which probably belonged the tallest/largest man who'd attacked them) Looked over at Wren and offered to help her up on to the saddle.

"Wait... Wren... have you ever riden a horse before?"

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Wren's a little numb as she uses one hand to dig through her pack, not actually checking to see if anything was missing-she'd been packed and ready to go before bedding down for the night, as always. No, she's looking for the clean scraps of cloth and bit of bandaging she'd bought from McCallister. She's bleeding, and open wounds were never good-not if they get infected, get something nasty in them.

The rope belt she removes to stuff into her pack along with her own dagger, the leather case since she had nothing to hang them on.

They're leaving the men to the wolves. Wren's stomach twists, but they had been working for Lord Anders-she shouldn't spare them her pity, they wouldn't have had any for her or Rand. The big one had been looking -forward- to killing Rand.

No, she doesn't feel bad for them.

She messily bandages herself up as best she can, and it's good enough. It'd staunch the bleeding, keep sickness out.

Wren stiffens as he helps her up, nearly pitching forward when her core tightens as they rise-but Rand steadies her. Her mouth is dry and she hurts, but she puts on a brave face and makes an effort to support herself as much as she can. She doesn't want him having to do it. Doesn't want to be more of a burden than she already is, even if she is paying him.

There's just a lot more than he'd originally signed up for, was all.

Despite her best efforts, it's slow going. But they eventually make it to wherever it is Rand is taking them-or rather, to what he's taking them to.

Horses. Some of the biggest she's ever seen, not that she HAD seen a lot of horses, exactly...not up close. She's a little spooked and glad to he set down against a tree-a relieved exhale just to not be standing anymore.

By the time Rand finished securing packs and thought to inquire about whether she could actually RIDE one of those things-Wren looks even worse for wear.

She gives a slow, sluggish shake of her head, before, bravely- "Can figure it out."

Yeah, THAT didn't seem likely-even if she had been trained, knew how to ride-she didn't currently look like she had the strength to rein one in, let alone stay in the saddle. It's not a good time for lessons, either.

 

[CoSurvivor]

Rand shook his head and thought to himself "No, of course not, silly me, she doesn't know how to ride, nor does she know how to bandage a wound.. "

Kneeling, Rand calmly took the wad of cloth she was using to blot out the blood that had been seeping out of her wound.

"Let me see it.." He carefully took her hand away, took a good look at it. He'd seen worse, and by the looks of it, burning pewter was assisting in the healing process. Rand didn't begin to try and understand what it took to be an Allomancer, he'd understood it, knew the dangers, and more than most knew how dangerous priests were. It was important to get her healed up and masking her presence.

Re-folding her dressing he had her hold it in place as he tore another long strip from the bottom of her cloak and wrapped it around her lower abdomen. he wrapped her tight, asked if she could breathe, and without giving her a moment to protest, he helped her up, hefted her up on to the saddle of the horse he'd put their packs on. "Hate me later Wren, right now we'll travel farther and faster if we ride together..."

Getting up on the horse behind Wren he gently put his arms around her, took the reins and lead the horse up away and gave it a slight kick,and they were off. It had been a while since Rand could afford a horse of his own, seeing as he'd only had about three hours of sleep before they were rudely woken up, he knew they'd have to bed down again soon and rest. Thankfully he had an idea of where to go.

Without much more to say, they rode on in silence, and after what seemed like an hour, Rand spoke as he came to a fork in the road, the signs directed to "Pine" or "Edgerton" Without much thought, while "Pine" would be a more direct route to the Capital, Edgerton would be where he wanted to go, and the destination of where they would hold up, at least till Wren was healed up enough where she wouldn't look so pale, or have to burn anything more than she had to.

Within a short ride, Rand had found what he was looking for, an old burned out house, with a partially caved in roof was left abandoned out in a field of wheat. Next to it was a mid sized barn which looked to be in just as bad of shape. Part of the roof had indeed caved in, while the rest of it was still upright. It wasn't an inn, but the location was safe, off the beaten path and if it was truly abandoned like it was the last time he'd been by, nobody would bother them. Taking the horse up the old path to the farm house, Rand noted how most of the old wagon road was quickly being over groan by nature, what might have once been a warm home had fallen to complete disrepair.

Stopping next to the partially collapsed barn, Rand slipped off the horse and motioned for Wren to stay where she was. Pulling his sword from it's sheath where he'd stored it behind the saddle, he pushed open the partially collapsed door looked around and then took a quick look around the property, Satisfied, helped Wren down from the saddle and helped her through the open door to the barn.

"It's not an inn, but it's not the woods either, If we get rained on we should be fine here. I'm going to make us comfortable in here, shouldn't take long. please sit, and try not to move too much."

The old barn was musty, and smelled dew, but the place was actually dry in side. Once he had Wren settled, he walked out to the nearest wheat stalks and started cutting down good stalks, and carried them back into the room where he'd left Wren. After about 20 minutes he'd piled a good bit on the floor, nearest one corner which was under a stable corner of the barn. It didn't take him long, but using the bedrolls and blankets he was able to make a surprisingly comfortable spot.

When he was done. Rand made sure Wren was as comfortable as he could. Calmly, he finally sat down, across from her, Rand was tired, his shoulder, neck and body ached from the battle, and he was tired.. the long trek from Mason's place to the forest and then their rush to get out of there had worn him down. But surprisingly he felt alive... more alive than he'd felt in ages.

Laying back on the straw bed, Rand kicked off his boots and looked to Wren advising her,

"Get some rest, let the burning do it's work, in the morning I'll forage and see what else this place might have. Then we'll talk.. ok?"

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Wren stiffens when plucked up and placed in the saddle of the largest horse, a moment of fogged panic, the hand not to her bandaged wound raised, uncertain what exactly to reach for-when he falls heavily into the saddle behind her. Rand reaches around for the reins and to keep her secured between either of his arms, something she’s not sure she likes either, not much-

"Hate me later Wren, right now we'll travel farther and faster if we ride together..."

Farther and faster sound like good ideas though, distance between themselves and the violent ends of the men-enough of one Wren doesn’t question or protest it, just gives a nod, staying straight so they weren’t touching more than they had to be-when he gives the horse a kick, and the animal really gets going.

It throws her back into him even with her free hand catching at the saddlehorn. The young woman doesn’t straighten herself back up-tightening her core hurts her right now, and she felt more secured with Rand against her back than not.

She maybe doesn’t like horses, turns out-it’s a little sickening, the speed and the rise and fall of the animal’s gait. That, and every heavy footfall sent a jolt through her. But honestly, the rate she’s burning pewter-she feels a little numb, and so does her injury….

Wren’s eyes lose focus on the path ahead, and she stops worrying so much about much of anything, really-more tired than she’s been in her entire life, all of a sudden. Her head nods forward once, twice-and then finally drops, body relaxing back against her guide as she falls into a heavy sleep.

It’s a long time before she stirs again, and it’s only because he slowed-then slipped from the horse altogether. Wren comes to blearily, none of the sharp suspicion or watchfulness he’d be more accustomed to-she doesn’t look well at all, blank, confused.

She follows along with what he says with surprising meekness. It’s not right, not with so blunt a woman as this one-and it’s nothing he has to endure long, because he had no sooner kicked his boots off than she was out again, the same deep sleep. Hopefully, a healing one.

~*~

Wren wakes up. It’s dark, very dark-the kind before the sun rises, cool and misted. Her throat was very sore-she’s taken a beating, she thinks. Must have messed something up, or been too slow somewhere else-something. But she had to get up-they killed people they found still in bed sometimes, those too old or too sick to work. Never know when Lord Anders might have a bad…

Wren wakes up, this time fully. She’s alone. No-someone is breathing, just one someone-rather than piles of unconscious, sleeping fellow laborers. She sits up a little, stiff-and without thinking about it, flares tin.

Wren chokes on a near scream as all her senses sharpened at once-including touch, the wound in her side feeling freshly torn open. She gets a brief flash of the inside of the half collapsed barn, Rand’s sleeping form before Wren stops burning everything but the pewter. You weren’t supposed to sleep with metals in you-but that was just too bad, right now.

She breathes for several long moments, letting that sharp sudden reminder of pain ease back to its dull ebb. It’s not so bad, she thinks. It had felt worse when it happened. Mostly, the flare of tin had confirmed that yes-Rand was still there. He might have been kind enough to get her to safety, a hiding spot-but she wouldn’t have blamed him for slipping away after. He might really be intent on sticking around-which meant the danger she was in would be his, too.

Wren doesn’t entirely know what to think about that.

Then again, she’d already half decided he was a bit foolish. Not stupid, just…well. She doesn’t know what. But he’d helped her. He knew what she was, and he’d still helped her. She remembers most of the night before. He’d bandaged her up himself.

So...where were they now?

Wren carefully rolls onto her good side, then all fours-and pushes herself to a shaky stand, favoring her left foot. Alright. Alright, yes, she feels much better than last night. She takes a tentative step forward, then a second-and finally, tightens her tattered cloak around her slim frame and makes her way to the gap in boards, stepped out to look around a little.

The house wasn’t too far off-it’d been burned down. Whether that was Lord Varric (or rather, one of his zealots) doing or an accident, she’s not sure. She half suspects the former, since no one had rebuilt here. It’s abandoned, and empty.

Could change, though.

Without straying too far, Wren found a small wooden chair, and leaned it against the outside of the barn. The mists curled around her boots, low to the ground now that daylight was coming. She sat herself down and took up an impromptu watch while Rand continued to catch up on his sleep. Given the fight the night before, Wren thought he deserved it. Besides...she needed to think. She’d been followed, and they’d been set to drag her back. That didn’t entirely make sense-why hadn’t Lord Anders sent Priests, or assassins? A head on a pike was example enough for a runaway, wasn’t it? And proof of duty, should someone have reported a misting girl having been found among his laborers.

But no, he’d wanted her back there. Why? A more public execution? Thought to curry favor by handing her over himself? Or...what?

He had plenty of other girls, it couldn’t possibly be for his original purpose.

Wren scowled. She wouldn’t think so, anyway.

 

[CoSurvivor]

Rand had been asleep, he wasn't sure how long, it had been partially restful, partially not, when he'd rolled on to his side and looked over to where he'd layed down Wren so she could sleep, and didn't see her when he woke up. He started to panic.

in a half second he was up, sword in hand kneeling as he looked about the ruined barn, it was as he'd found it, and he could see Wren's pack where he'd left it. She couldn't be far, or... whoever was after her had snatched her while he slept. In a slow creep he stayed to the interior of the barn but tried to get a good view of what might be out there, He didn't see anyone, then spotted a familiar boot. Not sure if she was asleep, live or dead, Rand watched her for a moment remembering to keep his breathing slow and shallow if he didn't want to be heard.

Satisfied that there was nobody out there but her, he snagged his scabbard from where he'd left it and slipped out the door taking a few steps toward where he spotted Wren. She was... keeping watch. or that's what he figured she was doing. Slipping his sword back into it's scabbard, Rand put the sling over his shoulder as he walked.

"Thanks for letting me sleep, but you didn't have to." Rand left the statement out there so she could respond to it as she liked. he followed up quickly by asking,

"How's your side? healing up ok?"

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

”Thanks for letting me sleep, but you didn’t have to.”

Wren didn’t look at him, not yet-just a nod. Her eyes remain looking across the barren, misted field, and her lips were pressed together, a guarded sort of stiffness to her body and expression.

“How’s your side? Healing up okay?”

Olive green eyes flick not to Rand but his hands, watchful and wary-before her arm parts the tattered cloak that had again been closed around her in a puff, and she looked down at the ripped tunic she still wore. He might observe it was more like a loose sack dress now that it was without the rope belt. The bandaging was visible through the bloodied hole in the garment, and while she hadn’t yet looked at it, it did hurt much less than when it had happened.

“Feels better than yesterday.” Wren’s voice is a little hoarse, and there’s some bruising at her soft throat-clear and visible finger marks from where the giant had tried to crush the life out of her-or at least consciousness. The bruises are already a faded yellowish green, rather than the black and blue they might have otherwise been, on someone else.

She was healing quickly indeed, thanks to her ability to burn Pewter.

Wren shifts in the wooden seat, a little conflicted, unsure what to say. She had for some reason expected him to be angry. That might have made things easier, would certainly have been a bit more familiar. Maybe it would have also been easier if he had abandoned her. But here he still was, talking much the same as he had been before, at least so far. Her eyes were back to the treeline, then the burned out house-he must have known about this place already, she decides.

“Are...are you okay, Rand?” Wren’s brow furrows as she finally looks over at him, a flicker of anxious concern-and guilt. She hadn’t told him, and while it wouldn’t have made any sense to share-it’d still gotten them into trouble he hadn’t been expecting, and that was her fault. Admittedly, Wren hadn’t expected that trouble either, but still. It wasn't Rand who had run away, and it wasn't Rand who could use allomancy. If he had gotten badly hurt, that would have been all her fault.

Which was why, despite the instinct to run without looking back-she'd stayed to help fight the men off.

 

[CoSurvivor]

“Are...are you okay, Rand?”

He nodded giving Wren a polite smile, "I'm good, a little sore, but no worse for wear. Thanks again for your help back there, I'm afraid that giant was about to make a meat pie out of me. if you hadn't given him a swift kick."

Rand then paid closer attention to her neck, he could see the healing bruising which looked like some misshaped tattoo, the man's fingers had dug deep into her throat and assuredly if Wren wasn't capable of the talents that he suspected she was, she'd be dead or at the very least she'd she'd look a whole lot more banged up.

Looking into her eyes, he took a more serious tone, but one that was heavily laced with sincere appreciation for her actions.. "You could have run Wren, you could have.. but you didn't...and I owe you my life for that."

Rand didn't speak of the fact that it was a 3 to 1 combat, that he'd killed 3 of the men while she'd only got the giant oaf of a man out of the way. Numbers in battle didn't matter, It mattered less in war, it only mattered that the two of them walked away in one piece versus bleeding out on the forest floor.

Rand took a few steps closer and asked, "Would you like to go rest for a while? Or would you like to help me set a few traps, see if we cant catch some dinner?"

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"I'm good, a little sore, but no worse for wear. Thanks again for your help back there, I'm afraid that giant was about to make a meat pie out of me. if you hadn't given him a swift kick."

Wren seems a little dubious about his thanks, given it was her fault he’d been in that mess in the first place-and she’s frowning a little at some spot in the distance mulling that over when he takes a step closer, makes direct eye contact.

"You could have run Wren, you could have.. but you didn't...and I owe you my life for that."

Wren was too fair for her sudden flush of color to be anything BUT obvious-widened green eyes dart away and a more familiar, blunt scowl takes the place of this morning’s uncertain, more careful expression.

“You made up the debt in killing the others, taking us away from there.” Maybe then some, but Wren’s shrewd enough not to say so. She barely remembers much of the aftermath, all told-she wouldn’t have lasted long on her own against man or monster, injured as she’d been.

And here they are now, much the same as before.

"Would you like to go rest for a while? Or would you like to help me set a few traps, see if we cant catch some dinner?"

Maybe they are. She’s sore and inclined to stay put, but that just be what he wants-an excuse, and then an easy way to slip away and not come back. She considers foiling such a plan by going-but really, would that be fair to him?

She pulled the cloak around her again, mulling this over.

“...if you want to go, you can go.” Wren finally says, blunt as ever. “Would understand.” A soft nod, practical as ever. There. A proper out, if he wanted one.

 

[CoSurvivor]

"If I wanna go?"

Rand said half inquisitively, half saddened that she'd say it. He shook his head mildly and got closer to Wren, He knelt, one knee in the soft dirt, the wet grass dampening the fabric of his paints. Both hands came to rest on his knee so his hands were in full view of her. Rand wasn't threatening, he spoke politely, while he could have gone off on her, started yelling, it wouldn't make a difference. All it would do is shut her down, and then where would they be.

Rand played the odds in his head fo the half second it took him to figure it out, no if they separated, they'd both be dead. they had a better chance of survival together.

"Wren, I'm not going anywhere. I don't know if you are used to being abandoned or ditched by people, where ever you come from must have been pretty harsh, must have.... well must have made it difficult for you to trust people. But we are in this together now. And as much as I need you to trust me, I also need to earn your trust and vise versa. so what say we go back inside and relax. You are tough Wren, tough as nails.. but sitting in that chair is not doing you any good."

Rand stood up, wiped off his knee and reached out his hand to her as a gesture of offering her help. He doubted she'd take it, but he offered it anyway.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Rand seems saddened by the offer, as if she meant something personal by it-rather than it just being practical, in Wren's book. It wasn't wrong to look after your own hide. No one else was going to do so for you, not for free.

At least...she wouldn't have thought so, previously. He kneels down of all things, almost eye to eye with her-sincere because Rand rather always seemed sincere-and with a furrowed brow and a kind few words, refused her invitation to flee.

She still has a guide, then. Maybe even... a friend? Wren's got a bit of a curious frown on her lips, expression not quite suspicious but certainly thoughtful-as she surprisingly accepts the offered hand up. She's moving gingerly, but the pained grimace he'd seen a time or two the night before was absent, a good sign.

"You didn't know I could...well." She's still a little reluctant to talk about Allomancy outloud, a frown and furtive glance towards the burned out house. "Well, you didn't know." Wren points out as they made their way back into the barn. She was moving slower and favoring one side, but able to walk unassisted.

"Only fair to offer, now that you do." He didn't have the good sense to accept the out, but that just seemed to be how he was...trusting people, going out on limbs he maybe shouldn't.

Maybe that's why she doesn't feel foolish, having gone back to help him like that. No, that had been the thing to do no matter what-but especially for someone like Rand.

Wren settles back against her pack gratefully. He was right, sitting up in that chair hadn't been doing her any favors. She watches him do the same, studies him a moment before-

"Came off a plantation." The young woman tells him. She's watching him a little, waiting to see if he judged her for that. "Lord Anders."

The confession was the greatest show of confidence Wren could think to muster-admitting where exactly she'd run away from, who her master was.

Had been. Yes, she's no property of his- she had firmly decided that the day she'd been forced to flee.

Wren doesn't avert her gaze. She's not ashamed to have grown up the way she had-other people had made those choices for her and those like her, not Wren. People like Lord Anders, he should be ashamed. All of the nobles. And Lord Varric, if he even was a man anymore-most of all.

 

[CoSurvivor]

Once he'd helped her up, Rand led the way back into the barn, and as she talked, he only gave her a reassuring nod, commenting only to say

"We have time Wren, no pressure, no judgments."
carefully watching Wren as she took a seat back on the straw-covered floor. He watched her stretch out and could tell she was no longer bleeding, but he wasn't completely satisfied with her recovery. She'd need to eat something, He was about to pull open his pack and fish out some dried fruit and meat when Wren started talking,
He didn't talk, he simply took a seat across from her and with a polite, encouraging look on his face his eyes expressed empathy, sadness, and when she'd mentioned the plantation owner's name "Lord Anders" it made sense... well a couple smaller puzzle pieces fell into place.

Rand nodded and finally spoke. "Anders is a piece of work. I don't know the man, but I've heard of him, and his ego. It's not a wonder he sent men after you."*

He was probably pushing her personal boundaries, but he sat closer to her than he had before, still giving her space, but... a measure closer. maybe so they didn't have to speak so loud, maybe because he was going to talk to her about something pretty sensitive.

"Considering that you have your talents Wren, to a man like that, you are a commodity, if he didn't prize you before he found out what you are capable of, he will now. and a man like that, which I've known a few in my time, will try to manipulate you, force you to come back. If he can find you now. Which we'll work on preventing from allowing that from happening."

Rand found her water skin and handed it to her, "You should drink, keep hydrated, and eat something, small bites if you must but eat, then rest. even with the burning of the pewter is it? You heal faster, your body still needs food and water. Let me check my stuff make sure I've got everything, Check your pack as well, just to make sure we didn't lose anything."

Rand busied himself with checking his pack, he'd gathered their things in haste last night in the dead of night, he was partially afraid he'd forgotten something, As he did so, Rand started to think, while pulling things out and making sure everything was where it should be.,

Rand had yet to really address the 300 pound monster in the room. Wren was a mistborn, Not only was she marked, if the priests found her, they'd kill her, then they'd kill him. IF he didn't turn her in or IF he didn't do EXACTLY what they wanted him to do. High chances were, no matter what happened regarding a priest, if they were found, both would be dead. He was guilty by association, and because he didn't turn her in.. A firestorm welled up from within him, part of him was more than a little angry, she'd lied, and had cost him his life now. Now any plans Rand actually had for a future were dashed... Gone like dust.

But what future did he actually have? he'd been wondering for years, traveling from one stupid place to the next like some vagabond, never willing to plant roots, never willing to stay somewhere for too long when he knew something might draw him in. Now Wren was in his path, or more he'd thrown himself into her path, he'd been so damn eager to help her, something about her demeanor, something about how she was acting basically was screaming at Rand to help her. And for whatever reason it might be, fortune had indeed shown upon them. Both of them.

Rand now honestly had a better purpose than he'd had in years, His purpose now was to keep her away from the priests, those monsters who'd kill anyone who wasn't nobility, or wasn't one of them. The thought of what they were capable of made his skin crawl. His purpose now was still her guide, but the nagging question now was, is she planning on turning herself in at the capital? or does she have some other crazed scheme when she gets there? If she hadn't thought much about the consequences of having someone guide her to the capital and that they'd be fucked the moment she was exposed, she may not have thought it out completely..

Rand slowly put everything back in his pack secure in the thought that everything was accounted for. Nodding at himself he closed the pack after he'd left out a hunk of dried salami, and a small loaf of bread. Taking a seat not far from Wren and combined a bite of each, the bread and salami tasting better together than separately. When he'd popped the two in his mouth, he looked over at Wren and asked,

"How long exactly have you known that you are a Mistborn?"